


Ticklish...

by DemonWalker



Series: I Never Want To Go Home [3]
Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 02:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1801897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonWalker/pseuds/DemonWalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"His right arm is shoved beneath his pillow, head turned to the left, facing the window; light filtering in, striping up across his shoulder and jaw."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ticklish...

**Author's Note:**

> Bit more light-hearted, ish, than the others. I really hope you guys like. I'd love to hear what you think!

Kieren wakes up before Simon the next morning, which in itself is a bit of a shock. Kieren’s never particularly been one for sleeping in, but Simon is the definition of “early bird”. His right arm is shoved beneath his pillow, head turned to the left, facing the window; light filtering in, striping up across his shoulder and jaw. The bed covers are up to his neck, almost. It doesn’t look particularly comfortable, in Kieren’s opinion. He knows Simon isn’t a particularly heavy sleeper, but his curiosity will always get the better of him where Simon is concerned, so he doesn’t even question his decision when he reaches up and pulls the sheet back to just below the small of his back, folding it over more than carefully. Before Kieren can reach back up to the top of his back, to the top of the wound, Simon’s hand shoots up from its place on the floor to his left, and grabs Kieren’s wrist.

For a moment, both of them remain completely still, but it isn’t long before Simon lets go of Kieren’s wrist and nods his head gently at him.

Kieren isn’t sure why he’s so endlessly fascinated with Simon’s scar. It’s incredibly ugly; he probably wouldn’t think so, not in the same way, if he knew it was an accident. Looking at it, all Kieren can think about is Simon tied up, tied down, awake and very much aware of what was being done to him, even if he couldn’t actually feel the pain of it. If they ever get any more feeling back, he wonders what would happen. Would the scar ever heal at all? Would it become increasingly worse? Would it hurt him always?

Kieren lies on his side and rests a cheek against Simon’s shoulder blade and says nothing, just stares at the staples in his back and wishes he had answers. Or ways to make Simon feel better. But how do you tell someone that it’s okay? What they did to him was anything but okay, even if Simon had given his consent – how can you split someone open and rummage around inside of them simply out of curiou---

Kieren sits up at that and frowns to himself. He pulls the cover back up over Simon’s back and presses a kiss to his shoulder.

Simon turns his head to the right and looks at him, narrows his eyes, looks him up and down, then purses his lips. He looks almost disappointed, and Kieren has no idea why. He looks tired, too. Kieren lies back down next to Simon and traces his fingers up and down Simon’s arm while he watches. They stare at Kieren’s fingers as they make their trails up and down, and then lower to the crook of his arm. Kieren blinks when Simon flinches, and goose bumps litter his skin.

He grins and repeats the process. Ticklish. Simon’s ticklish. He shouldn’t even really feel what Kieren is doing, but he does, is, feeling it, and it’s ticklish. Kieren laughs loudly and giddily and springs to sit up before motioning for Simon to lie on his back. Kieren’s hands explore the junction of Simon’s neck, and the skin that stretches across his collar bone. He traces down his chest and then drags his fingers over his ribs.

He feels Simon’s muscles tense beneath his fingers, the same time he hears Simon take a deep breath. Ticklish. Kieren pulls his hands back quickly and stares at his fingers before staring at Simon, and laughing again. Not only is Simon reacting to what his fingers are doing, but Kieren’s feeling the reactions.

Simon seems just as shocked at his reaction to Kieren’s touches as Kieren is, which he takes as a good thing. He sits up slowly and stares at Kieren for what feels like an eternity before he presses the tips of his fingers to the tips of Kieren’s. They both feel acutely aware of the friction between the ridges that form their fingerprints, neither of their hands feel particularly warmer than they were previously, but the fact that they can feel is all they care about in this moment.

Kieren moves his hands away and brushes his fingers over Simon’s wrists and up his arms to his elbows before quickly reaching for Simon’s sides and drumming his fingers against them, pinching them gently. He grins when Simon lets out a squeak of disapproval and curls in on himself, shoving his elbows towards the crooks of Kieren’s arms to try to push him off. Kieren’s quicker than Simon is, and before long, Simon is puffing breathlessly, and wriggling toward the other side of the bed, to no avail. Kieren pulls away before he can get from under him and grins down at him, leaning down before he can tell him off and kissing him gently and insistently, gasping when he realises that it feels different somehow.

It’s more than cold pressure. **_It’s more_**.


End file.
